


Never Trust a Trickster

by thebitchywitcher



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: M/M, Trickster!jaskier, basically thats it, enjoy plz, i wrote this for someone on tumblr so i'll tag them, this is just our two idiots getting into trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:06:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22198300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebitchywitcher/pseuds/thebitchywitcher
Summary: Jaskier and Geralt travel to a lords castle after recieving an invitation. Things go sideways, and certain secrets are revealed.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 396





	Never Trust a Trickster

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this was written for @menwithwhitehairarebeautiful sorry idk if you have an ao3. Anyways, the post was basically about Jaskier being a trickster and geralt not knowing but I switched it a little because I wanted BAMF jas. Enjoy :)

If Geralt is being honest, he never saw this coming. No- he REALLY never saw this coming. This moment is the 'holy shit' of all moments in the Witchers life. 

It all started with a an annoying bard, a knife to Geralts throat, and desperation.

***

"Geralt...geralt! I can't believe you wanted to leave me with Roach!" The bard, aka the bane of Geralt's exsistence, hurries to join the man. "I mean really, the stables are nice! But not when there is ale, food and, well, women inside." He huffs as he comes to walk beside the Witcher, who gives him a sideways glance.

"Hmm." He says in response, not quite knowing what else to really say. To be fair, he hadn't told Jaskier what he was really doing at the lord's castle, nor what kind of fight would come from this meeting. "You should go back," he says, resigned. Geralt knows the bard won't go anywhere- something that pains him greatly but also tugs at his heart.

"No way! Now, c'mon my good friend- there is food to eat and women to see." Geralt sighs as the bard practically skips up to the guards standing outside the door. 

"We are here to see the Lord, he called for a Witcher." Geralt gives the two guards a bored look, mentally cataloging the exits he can see. The two guards share a look and then nod, pushing open the door and motioning them to follow. 

"This is weird." Jaskier whispers to him, glancing around at the dark and empty halls. The Witcher nods, agreeing that the lack of...noise is off putting. Despite this, Geralt just grazes his fingertips over the small blade tucked into his waistband, and continues foreward. 

They finally come to a doubleset of tall doors, seemingly where the party is, however no noise and smell tells Geralt something is indeed wrong here. The guard pushes open both doors, not entering but motioning the two men through. The bard shares a look with the Witcher, who nods and walks through. Jaskier, of course, follows.

As soon as they enter, the doors behind him are slammed and a low voice calls out. "The Witcher, a pleasure." Geralt looks to the voice, seeing a withering man sitting on a throne like chair. His hand waves, and seemingly out of thin air- a swarm of guards appear.

"Geralt-" Jaskier tries to warn, but it's too late. A knife to his throat and a kick to the back of his knees sends him tumbling to the marble floor with a grunt. The Witcher glares up at the faceless guard with the knife touching his throat.

"I do apologize for this, but the spell is very specific." The old man sighs from his chair, and suddenly Jaskier surges foreward.

"Let him go you old man!" Before the Witcher can warn him, another guard hits the back of his head with the handle of a sword. The bard tumbles to the floor in a heap, and Geralt tries to ignore the anger that boils his blood.

"Well, Witcher, I must thank you." The knife at his neck bites into the skin there, and Geralt can feel warm blood run down his skin to meet his shirt. "You are doing me a great service- making me immortal with your very own heart." 

"Well, I'm grateful to be of service." The Witcher quips, trying not to sound as helpless as he feels. It's like the elves all over again, he certainly can't take on this many guard if he can't move. The sword on his back taunts him, making him want to growl in annoyance. Out of the corner of his eye, something twitches- Jaskier he realizes. 

"Well, I'm afraid this will be our first and last meeting." The sword at his neck draws away, raising high above the guard. Another sword at his back keeps him in place. Geralt watches as the mans sword seems to change, shifting colors, settling on green and then shortening. No- slithering down the guards arm until the guard screams and tries to shake the snake away. 

"What are you doing?!" The guard behind him shouts. "We need-" the guard is cut off by his own screaming, and suddenly the knife at his back falls away. Geralt moves, standing and drawing his sword all at once. He prepares to attack the remaining men, but he doesn't have to. The guards seems to attack eachother all at once, swords clanging as they shout and attacking eachother. 

"What are you fools doing?" The lord asks, shouting above the chaos. He attempts to stand, but spiders appear over the back of his chair. Crawling until they cover any open space. The man finally sees them and screams, a wail as they start to cover him to. 

Geralt sheaths his sword and turns to his friend, ready to carry the unconscious bard to safely. Instead, he finds Jaskier leaning against the wall mumbling with his eyes closed

The Witcher looks between the scene and his bard, but he only comes up with one conclusion. 

Oh yeah, this is definitely a 'holy shit' moment.

______

Jaskier has had his fair share of 'oh shit' moments. There was that time he woke up in a womans bed with her husband threatening him, the time a pack of elves almost killed him, oh- and that time he almost died from a Djinn. 

But this? This is the 'oh shit' moment to put all 'oh shit' moments to shame. And it all started with some desperation, a few tricks, and passing out.

***

The Witcher made a quick decision, growling and lifting the bard in a bridal carry. Behind him, blades clash and men scream- in his arms Jaskier groans and practically burrows into him. Geralt ignores the tug in his chest, hurrying out of the castle and preparing to drop the bard to fight the guards outside.

As soon as the pair turn towards them, they share a look and then attack eachother with barely a whisper from Jaskier. The Witcher clenches his jaw and continues on- his instincts telling him to get the hell out of there.

It was only once they were leaving, Roach trotting happily with Jaskier slouched against Geralts back that the Witcher began to think. To understand what the hell had happened- what Jaskier had done.

His conclusion is concerning.

***  
Jaskier lets out a soft groan, blinking his eyes open with a yawn. He cover his mouth and shifts slightly, settling onto the furs he must have fallen asleep on. He listens to the night, the crickets chirping restlessly and the sound of Roach breathing deeply. It's a calm night, the fire crackling in front of his face to warm him and Geralt staring at him like Jaskier had skinned his horse and used him as a jacket and- wait a minute.

"Holy god!" Jaskier shoots up, looking around frantically at their small camp. Roach opens her eyes and seems almost annoyed at his shout, before returning to her sleep. The bards eyes find Geralt, and they look him over. "You're okay- that's good." He laughs weakly as the expression on the Witchers face remains the same.

"What are you?" Comes the rough question, throwing Jaskier off balance as he blinks once. And then again. And- oh! Oh, shit.

"Uhm, what do you mean?" The man asks, running his hands over the furs weakly as he tries to think of a way out of this. He can't tell the Witcher, who will surely kick him out of camp like a sack of rotten potatoes. Better to play innocent. 

"Don't play innocent." Oh, well he tried. "What. Are. You." He gives Jaskier the look, the one that makes monsters know why he came to them- the one that makes men turn away in a hurry. The look always amused Jaskier- he just never thought Geralt would turn it on him.

"A trickster." The bard swallows, heart hammering in his chest like a drum. Jaskier tries not to worry, wipes his hands on his pants and tells himself the Witcher wouldn't hurt him. But the stare, that worries him. 

"A trickster." Geralt repeats, staring into the fire now. "You're a trickster." The man repeats again, scoffing slightly and shaking his head.

"Well, yes. But It's not like I use those powers all the time- just when we are in danger." Jaskier tries to backtrack, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Geralt makes no move, tense against the tree sword in his lap. 

"The Elves." He suddenly says, looking back into the Bards eyes with a glare. "They didn't just let me go because of my 'reverse psychology', did they?" He clenches his jaw and Jaskier decides how to answer.

"I only tricked them into seeing you as less threatening- that was the only time I've used it...before today at least." He adds the last part in a quiet voice. Geralt looks away again, at the fire.

"Why...why didn't you tell me?" He asks quietly, and Jaskier is almost certain his voice breaks. The bards heart tugs painfully in his chest, and a voice asks; 'why didn't you?'

"I was afraid." Jaskier admits, searching Geralts face for any sign of what the man in thinking. "But...I should probably leave, now I suppose." The bard nods and stumbles to stand, still tired from the energy he used to kill those men. He gathers his things silently, part of him hoping the man stops him- part of him wanting to leave silently.

He grabs his lute as the final thing, eyes stinging and pulse pounding in his ears. He takes a step, a single shifting of his feat when there's a loud growl, a hand on his should spinning him around violently. His shuts his eyes, preparing for the worst, but an arm slips around his waist. Geralt grabs his satchel and tosses it aside, pulling him into a broad chest. 

Jaskier drops his lute, tears building up in his eyes as he presses into the embrace, mumbling apologies. A shaking hand smooths down the back of his head before the Witcher brings both arms around the smaller man. 

They stay like that for a few minutes, just breathing eachother in, Jaskier remembering what could have happened to Geralt- remembering the blade pressed against the mans throat. 

Geralt pulls back, searching his face for a moment before he growls low in his chest. "Ah- shit." He pushes foreward, pressing gentle lips against Jaskiers which part in a gasp at the touch. 

Okay so maybe the 'oh shit' moments are the best.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Lmk what you think :)


End file.
